


The Amber Forest for the Trees

by OlivesBadDreams



Category: Fringe (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Developing Relationship, Dialogue Heavy, Dialogue driven, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Love, Pillow Talk, Self-Doubt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 11:55:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17745461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OlivesBadDreams/pseuds/OlivesBadDreams
Summary: Lincoln breaks the silence. “Did you love him?” he asks. It’s a question so raw, so naked, so out of the blue that she shivers. “The other me?” [An Over There fic for a Redverse Fringe zine.]





	The Amber Forest for the Trees

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in June 2018 for a zine & I'm sharing it here with all of you! 
> 
> Also I'm alive??? I'm posting on this site again??? What does that mean??? - I don't know what it all means. If you look at this work, & the works I've posted previously, this is... a bit of a divergence. I'm not sure if I'll be able to return to my SCPFringe fic, because of the huge time gap, & also because of all the differences the SCP Foundation universe has now... but who knows. Or maybe I'll just write some other Fringe works. 
> 
> Regardless, enjoy this little one-off.

One bed, two bodies. Red hair spilled over soft white pillows, their fingers tangled together. One breath, another breath, then two more. Under the grey covers, their feet rub each other.

Is the room glowing, or are they? There’s an amber-like haze settling over the room, over the two of them, that Olivia can’t blink away. But it suits him - it suits them. She leaves it alone in the comfortable stillness. She could stay like this forever. She wants to.

Lincoln breaks the silence. “Did you love him?” he asks. It’s a question so raw, so naked, so out of the blue that she shivers. “The other me?”

She looks into his eyes - so similar and yet not. She runs her other hand down his face, much smoother than the Lincoln’s she once knew. She sighs then sighs again. How can she even begin?

“Did you?” He repeats softer, with brows furrowed. “Olivia?”

“And why do you want to know?” She forces a playful smile. 

“I… just do.”

 _“That’s not an answer.”_  It’s a sassy retort composed from caution.

“Please,” he begs her with his stare. With those puppy dog eyes under shaggy hair.

Olivia can’t resist them. She reluctantly answers, “In my own way, yes.”

“Now _that’s_ not an answer.” He frowns, sits up, and reaches for his glasses.

“Well, what do you want to hear?” She traces her fingers along the imprint his body left behind on the bed as he continues to sit up. “Let dead men rest.” She pats the imprint, “Come back.”

But Lincoln sits firmly on the edge of the bed, feet planted firm to the floor. Feet planted in this world that was never his. In this relationship that could and should never be his. His bare back fading in the amber haze, as the afterglow fades away.

Olivia purses her lips, fighting back a scowl. “Fine,” she relents. “I did - or rather, I wanted to. It never happened.” She wants to say “it wasn’t meant to be,” but it doesn’t feel right. Fate is such a cheap cop-out. It wasn’t just fate; it was something much more powerful than that. Something much more real. A bloody exchange and a bitter smile.

“And before you ask more… why do you need to know? Isn’t this - all of this - enough?” She runs her hands down his back, tracing circles with cold fingers on warm flesh. “What does it matter?”

There’s a pregnant pause she isn’t comfortable with. “What’s gotten into you, anyway?” Olivia laughs, in an attempt to diffuse the tension. “What’s got you so worked up?”

Why all of this now? And why now? And what emotion could be causing it?

Lincoln finally turns to face her again. _“You chose me.”_

She almost doesn’t hear him, the words are so small - as if said to someone worlds apart from here. “I know I did.” She laughs again. “Of _course_ I did.”

Couldn’t he see that? Isn’t that what these past few years have been? The culmination of so many choices, both here and there?

“Wh-" 

No. Before he can even ask, she insists, "You were always you, I knew that from the start. And I was always me, not the other Olivia. You knew that - you  _know_ that.” Olivia cups his face in both her hands, firm yet still tender. “Lincoln, listen to me.”

She watches him inhale and exhale, then continues again. “Was there timing? Yes. Was there tragedy? Yes. But it was you; it was always you. And if you didn’t cross over, I would have always thought of you. This you with this me. And this reality that we’re living in right now. And this moment that we’re in right now. _This!”_

Another pause. She can almost hear Lincoln churning her words in his mind, cogs stumbling and stumbling, trying to comprehend something undeserved on his end. It almost breaks her heart. Where was this doubt coming from? She just couldn’t understand it. There was no function for it, no purpose. So why? 

 _“You don’t think you deserve me.”_ The words escape lips she thought were closed, and she immediately regrets them.

“I don’t.”

She hates his answer, all automatic and self-loathing. “And why not? What would lead you into thinking such a thing? What proof do you have?” Another playful smile, hoping to coax the answer out of him so she can put it to rest. “And don’t say his charisma. You have that too. It’s quieter, but it’s there.”

“Is it? Is it _really_ there?” Lincoln turns away from her to face the wall, fading from amber to beige to off-white.

“You’re not giving me anything to prove me otherwise.” She wraps her arms around him, bringing him closer to her. “You’re just being… stupid. Childish.”

“Maybe crossing over was stupid.” His voice is small again.

“What?!” Olivia jolts up. “After all this time, you don’t think it was worth it?”

“No, that’s not- I’m not-! That’s not what I said!”

“Lincoln. Lee.” Her voice has that edge he’s only heard her use in the field. “Stand up.”

And he does. His bare chest heaving heavily up and down. His arms hanging limp at his thighs. His chin curling limp against himself.

“Look at me.” Another order that he obliges. But he’s afraid to look at her perfect form, glowing in the amber light. He shuts his eyes and turns away.

“Olivia…”

When he opens them again, he’s huddled on the floor, in a ball – like the childish thing she called him earlier. And he’s even more ashamed of himself. He curls into himself tighter and tighter.

“Lincoln. Lincoln, look at me,” coos a gentler tone whispering from just above him. She’s on the floor with him, kneeling with him, red hair cascading everywhere. Her touch is so gentle, so cool. Her hands on his shoulders, her hair on his back.

He looks. He listens.

“I never got that chance with him, but I got that chance with you. And I took it. And I grew it – because I _wanted_ to grow it. Because I knew I could start something with you. And we have, and we are. Every day I learn something new about you, and you learn something new about me. Every day is a discovery and a gift. And all of it is real. And deserved.”

Lincoln takes a shaking breath, then admits, “I’m just so scared that one day I’ll wake up and I’ll still be over there. And none of this would have happened. I’ll wake up and I’ll be stuck over there without anyone to call home, or anything to belong to or believe in. I’m so scared that one day this fabric holding the two of us together now will rip open. And I’ll be forced back to the time and place I was born in. A place without you. A place without us.” He sighs again, “I can’t live in that fear. It’s too painful.”

“And it’s less painful convincing yourself that you’re undeserving of this? And me?”

“Yes.”

Her heart aches. She takes him in her arms and kisses every patch of skin she sees; every bit of him, precious.

Olivia finally pulls away and smirks. “If there’s anything I learned from my other self, it’s that the one you love… is worth fighting for. _You’re_ worth fighting for. And if the universe tries to pull us apart, I’ll pull you right back to me. I won’t give you up for anything, or for anyone else, ever.” She kisses him once on the lips, and once on the forehead. “Do you believe me, Lincoln Lee?”

“Yes. I do.”

“Then don’t you dare doubt this or doubt us again.” Her voice is firm, final. “We take this one day at a time. We embrace this one day at a time. I don’t ever want to hear you doubting again.”

 

So he doesn’t.


End file.
